


I didn't say funny, I said kinky

by Anonymous



Category: Castle
Genre: Consensual, Episode: s04e10 Cuffed, F/M, Handcuffs, Mutual Masturbation, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr: castlefanficprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castle & Beckett wake up cuffed together, and while trying to escape they end up getting more intimate than they expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I didn't say funny, I said kinky

**Author's Note:**

> Our heroes wake up in handcuffs in a cellar and have to get into some compromising positions to try to escape, which in the episode as written leads only to some snark and innuendo, but which in my fertile imagination leads to some creative methods of mutual relief.
> 
> [For a prompt on castlefanficprompts,](http://castlefanficprompts.tumblr.com/post/113797790672) with slight variation. (Castle believes in the "show, don't tell" method.)

"You'd better not be enjoying this, Castle."

"I'll let you know in a minute."

Okay, so it's more than a minute. But let's face it, for his dick, mere seconds of contact with Beckett's delicious backside, even fully clothed, is - mere seconds too many. Even now, when they're cuffed and locked up...

"Castle..."

"Come on, Beckett, it's an involuntary reaction. Focus on the task."

"I don't think I'm the one losing focus here."

"Fine." He'll try to ignore his now unrepentantly throbbing groin and throw himself into moving this immovable object before him. The freezer, not Beckett. Though he'd love to throw himself into... Shut up, Castle, he tells his brain.

They're still shoving and panting and snarking and it's so close to how he'd imagine her in bed that he bites his tongue to keep his fantasy at bay...until...

"Beckett. What are you doing?"

"Trying to move the damn freezer, what's it look like?"

"I know what it *looks* like..." Castle decides to throw caution to the wind; he has a captive audience and enough evidence to guess she *might* be willing to...participate. "What it *feels* like is - "

"Think carefully before you finish that thought, Castle."

"It feels like you're rubbing your backside against me." There. He said it. He braces for impact. Why did he say it? She's going to strangle him with the cuffs now...his only comfort is that she'll have to explain it to Gates.

He notices that they've both stopped pushing with their hands...but not with other parts of their anatomy.

"Beckett? Please don't kill me."

Her head drops down, her hair hanging between her arms.

"Alexis would never forgive you. And think of the paperwork. Not to mention - "

"Don't. Don't mention, Castle." She's shaking. Not with rage, he hopes. Why did he say that?

She looks back over her shoulder and he sees her face and she's *laughing*. Is that a *good* thing? he wonders.

"I must be faint from hunger," she mutters, then she leans back against his chest and cranes her neck and he realizes she's trying to kiss him. He's more than willing to help with that, so he gets his mouth within range and latches onto hers.

Long moments and tantalizing forays with tongues later, she releases his lips and says against his cheek, "We will never, ever speak of this, you got that, writer boy?"

"Of course," he stammers. He doesn't know what she means by "this" but he'll do whatever she says right at the moment.

"Give me your hand. Your right hand."

He wipes his grubby paw off on his pants and reaches around, and she takes hold of it and pulls it forward and down. Presses his palm to the seam of her jeans. She's leaning against him from shoulder to thigh and his hand is between her legs and he's like a deer in the headlights.

"Um," he says, ever the articulate one. "Now what?"

"Been too long for you, Castle?" She shifts her hips back, hard, and he can't contain the gasp of shock and lust that flashes through him. "Forgot how to make out with a girl?"

Castle's brain finally manages to get with the program. He grinds slowly into her and closes his hand over her crotch, applies his tongue to her ear and is rewarded with a gasp from her lips. Her head is tipped back on his shoulder, her back arched and her chest thrust forward. He makes up his mind and goes all in.

He slides his left hand, still cuffed to hers, around her waist, getting his fingertips just under her shirt, and when she doesn't resist he keeps sliding until his hand is completely under her shirt, spread across the warm skin of her stomach, her own left hand on top of his.

When he feels her unsnap her jeans with her other hand he decides to pitch in. Delicately he tugs on the zipper while she curls her fingers around his left hand and drags it up to cup her breast through her bra. He gets the zipper down far enough to wriggle his fingers between her jeans and panties and damn, the pulse between her legs is solid confirmation that she wants this.

He's happy to oblige, whether she just wants him to get her off or whether there's more on the menu; all he knows is that the odds of him ending up dead have diminished.

"How far, Kate?" he breathes in her ear. "How far can I go?"

"Keep going," she murmurs. "I'll tell you when."

Fair enough, he thinks gleefully. Her butt is still squirming on his lap and his dick is enthusiastically playing along, finding the crease between her cheeks through the jeans and rocking into her.

"You know what I'd like to do, don't you, Kate? I'd like to get you up on your knees, pull down your pants and panties and bare your ass..."

She lets out a low moan and her right hand fumbles to push her jeans further out of the way, giving his hand room to explore.

"And while my fingers are busy here..." They're busy all right, tracing the outline of her folds through her damp panties. "...and my other hand is busy here..." Pulling her bra cup down so he can stroke her nipple. "...I'd bend down and get my mouth between your cheeks..."

"Finally...you gonna...kiss my ass, Castle."

"You'd like that, my tongue circling your rosebud...feeling my scruffy face against your soft buttocks...I bet nobody's ever done that to you."

"No," she says in a strangled voice. "They haven't. No one."

He's not going to push his luck by actually trying it, between their predicament and the great unknown that is their relationship. Still, no shame in *thinking* about it. Or other things he'd like to do to her. 

As if sensing his hesitation, she turns her head for a kiss and whispers, "Talk to me, Castle. You're a wordsmith...make me come with your words."

Well, then.

"I bet you'd like it," he goes on. "Bet you'd let me curl up my tongue and push it right into your asshole..."

She's got an imagination; the sound she makes is low and desperate.

"Hot and wet and sinful...licking and probing while my fingers are busy teasing your clit..."

She's so wet now that her panties are just a thin, soaked film between his fingers and her sex. He rubs over her swollen center, wishes to hell this was a cleaner prison so he could slide his fingers right in, all the way in...

Her hand moves from where it was braced on his thigh, so she can push her fingers into her panties, mirroring the movement of his hand on top of them.

"Hell yes," he growls. "Touch yourself, Kate...God, I wish I could feel your hand on my dick...rubbing me off while I'm rubbing you..."

"Yeah, Castle...make me come...get my hand all wet so I can stroke you..."

"Ah, *fuck*," he groans. Her hand is moving harder and faster between her legs, his hand over hers, his hips matching her motions while his left hand cups and squeezes and fondles her breasts...

"Gimme," she gasps, straining to get his lips on hers, and once they're fused together she nearly shrieks into his mouth, swallowing the groan that forces its way out of him as her body bucks and writhes in his grip.

Castle keeps on kissing her as she comes down from her high, latched onto her mouth like a lifeline. The first sign of her return to reality is the slow roll of her hips against him, as she pulls both of their hands out of her pants. He takes a deep breath and prepares to soldier on through the pain in his balls - but Kate has other ideas. Obviously.

She brings their hands up and over her shoulder, fumbling over his skin until her slick fingers find his mouth, and he prays this is what she wants as he frees her mouth and captures those fingers between his lips. Their heads are close together and he can see her watching his mouth as he sucks.

"Castle," she purrs against his cheek. "Unzip your pants."

With his currently idle right hand (his left is still cradling her breast), he unfastens his pants in the narrow space between their bodies. Sliding his hand through the fly of his boxers, he palms himself and closes his eyes. He doesn't know which would be better, coming quickly or taking his time. Under the circumstances, he figures quicker would be advisable, so they can get back to their escape efforts.

Resigned, he shifts back to give himself more room (and try to avoid messing up her clothes), then freezes as Kate pulls her fingers out of his mouth and their cuffed left hands out from under her shirt. Her pants are still open and her hair is tousled, and when she turns slowly to face him he can't resist kissing her soft, swollen lips.

Their left arms hang awkwardly between their bodies; technically they could have sex in this position, but it's going to be tricky. Kate is looking him up and down appraisingly (his hand is still in his shorts, covering his dick, so she's not, um, sizing him up) and after a moment she grins mischievously.

"Lis back on the floor," she says. Castle figures she's going to put some distance between them, once again in the interest of tidiness, so when he reluctantly lays his head and shoulders on the cold concrete he's shocked to see where she's headed.

She's positioned herself on all fours over him, knees on either side of his head, hands planted on the floor so that her hair, hanging around her face, brushes over the back of his right hand between his legs. There's no inconvenient criss-cross, and he has plenty of room to get busy.

Still... is she really... ?

"Castle," she huffs, ducking her head so when he looks down her face is upside down. "Don't be a tease. Whip it out."

She really is. Just like that, any hesitation vanishes and he grins right back at her. She watches as his right hand extricates his aching dick from its confines and opens his hand to lay his length out for her approval.

"Mmm," Kate hums. She leans down and licks from the crown to the base and Castle shudders, remembering that his left hand has to stay put or he'll pull one of her supporting arms out from under her. He lets go of his dick to run his right hand down her spine, giving her butt a squeeze, and says, "Okay, let me do all the work."

"I was planning to," she says. "You stroke, I'll suck."

He groans, half at the sound of her voice saying those words and half in anticipation. She slides her mouth down on him, getting him as wet as possible, then draws her head back as his hand curls around his shaft and starts to squeeze and pull. She goes on kissing and licking at the head, plying her tongue over just the tip. 

His right hand is pumping and his left is plastered against the floor and he's unexpectedly even hotter at the restriction, as well as the scent of Kate's sex just out of reach of his mouth. He pumps faster and she whispers, "Come on," just before tossing her hair out of the way and taking his head between her lips. A couple more strokes and he's there, right there, shooting over her hot tongue as she sucks and swirls and swallows, oh God she swallows, of course she does and he feels like his orgasm will never end.

Like all good things, though, it does, and Kate lays a final kiss on his tip and swings her leg over his head, sitting beside him and getting her pants fastened as Castle tucks himself away and zips back up as well.

She catches his eye then and says, "What if we emptied the locker?"

Okay, break time's over, he thinks wryly. But if she thinks they're going to pretend this never happened, she is, for once, completely mistaken. First step: get them out of here, alive and available for round two.

"I think I can pick the lock," he says.


End file.
